Chapter Twenty-Four
Rowan
The air outside is blessedly cold after the furnace of the dance floor, and my mind instantly clears when we collapse through the double doors, sides still aching with laughter.
My cheeks hurt from the smile I’ve worn all night, and my companions wear matching grins.
My skin tingles. Every part of me feels alive.
And when I look at Angus, remembering the feel of his arms on mine, his firm, broad chest, my heart begins to thrum.
“I haven’t laughed that much in years,” Lila declares, as we walk down the steps. “That was wonderful. Thank you, Angus.”
“For what?”
“For bringing us somewhere so fun! I never would have thought to come here without you.”
“Ach, it’s nae trouble,” he says, sounding even more Scottish than usual.
“I’m exhausted.” Priya collapses on the steps. “Mum, can we go to bed now?”
“Agreed.” Ewan levers himself down beside her. “That was mental.”
“You didn’t even dance.”
“But I watch, and even that was a lot. Did you see how many people were in there? My eyes are tired.”
“Such is the stamina of youth,” Lila says fondly. “Come on then. I’ll get us a taxi.”
“Really?” Priya asks, eyes shining. “No more walking today?”
“I've had quite enough of that.” Lila gets out her phone. “Rowan, Angus, do you want to join?”
I shake my head. “My hotel isn’t far, and it’s a nice evening. I think I’ll walk.”
“Bonkers,” Ewan says, shaking his head.
“Alone?” Angus shoots me a hard look.
“It’s barely eleven. I walk home alone all the time at home. Are you trying to tell me Fort William is more dangerous than London?”
“I’m saying I’m not sure a woman should go home alone after dark.”
“No one’s making me! I’m choosing to. You don’t think I’m capable of a short stroll? Bloody hell, we just walked one hundred miles.”
I don’t know where this is coming from. I want him to walk me home. I want him to press me up against the hotel porch and put his hand behind my neck and pull me to him with a firm, demanding tug.
I want him. But I want him to want me too, not walk me out of some misguided sense of chivalry.
“We did, didn’t we?” Lila interjects.
“Hell yeah, we did,” Ewan says. “And I did it with a sprained ankle, so I think we all know who the real hero is.”
“Me, for carrying you most of the way?” asks Angus.
“You have been a most noble steed,” Ewan says.
“Cab’s here!” Lila says, as a sleek black car pull up alongside us. “In you go. Angus, Rowan, you sure you don’t want a ride?”
“No,” we both say at the same time, and then glare at each other.
“You really don’t need to walk me,” I protested again.
“I’m really going to, London,” he says, his voice firm.
“For god’s sake,” Ewan leans out of the car. “Let the man walk you, Rowan, so you can finally shag and put the rest of us out of our misery. Listening to the two of you fail to flirt has been more painful than the walking. Kiss and get it over with already.”
“We don’t—”
“I’m not trying—”
We say at the same time.
“Whatever.” Ewan ducks back inside. “Don’t forget to wear protection!”
And the car speeds off, leaving us alone.
The silence stretches, painfully. Angus is looking at me with an expression I can’t read, his face lit from one side by the moonlight.
I’m struck afresh by how devastatingly handsome he is; a loose plaid shirt slung over his hiking top, his hair dishevelled and curling around his ears from the dance, his dark eyes capturing mine.
“My hotel’s that way.” I gesture, to break the quiet.
“Aye,” is all he says in reply, still with that unreadable look, his lips curved at the corners in a knowing smile. “Well, lead on.”
“Right. I will.”
I start off down the path, stopping when I realise he isn’t following.
“Well? Aren’t you going to walk me?”
“Do you want me to?”
I roll my eyes. The man is impossible. Of course I want him to. There are a million things I want him to do to me, and almost all of them require a door between us and the rest of the world. But if he doesn’t want to… I turn away again.
“You’re going the wrong way.”
I stop. Look up and down the road, and realise that I’m heading out of town, towards the campsite.
“Oh.”
“Unless you’re looking to get in my tent again?” he teases.
“No!” I say, too quickly, too loudly.
“Well. Then your hotel is this way.” Angus saunters away. “Guess you did need me here. You coming or what, London?”
Arrogant. Difficult. Obnoxious.
And yet, somehow, even more attractive. His air of quiet authority. The way he doesn’t need to look behind him to see if I’m still there. Those wide shoulders tugging at his shirt.
“Nice of you to join,” he says.
“Shut up.”
“Only if you ask very, very nicely.”
“Please, Angus, for the love of god, will you shut up?”
He tilts his head. “That would be a no. You’re welcome to try again though.”
“Like hearing women beg, do you?”
Angus shoots me a glance that is full of promise. “Some women. Oh, aye. I do.”
I shut my mouth at that.
The rumbling growl of his voice does bad things to my chest. To my knees. To every longing, tingling part of me.
Moonlight glints off the sea. Rough waves and specks of white foam disappear into the horizon. It’s almost impossible to tell where the water ends and the sky begins. The air is crisp with the scent of brine, and the wind whips at my skin as I drink it in.
I’m a long way from London’s dingy streets, and I can feel every mile.
When I pull myself back, I find Angus is watching me, his eyes stormy as the water below.
“What are you thinking?” he asks me, unexpectedly.
“That I feel lighter here. More alive.” I watch a sea gull soar across the night sky. “And that I don’t want to go back.”
“Do you have to?”
I jerk in surprise. “Well, yes. Of course I do. My whole life is in London. My job, my flat, my…”
But that isn’t true. Reflex. Nothing more.
The flat isn’t mine. The job paid the bills, but it doesn’t fill my soul.
Not like this. And when you take those away, what else is there?
Marnie. Brian. Rufus, their dog. My sister, who I barely ever see.
A handful of friends I meet for dinner once a month.
My life in London is full of holes. An unfinished patchwork blanket I’ve wrapped around my shoulders, pretending I’m warm.
“What about you? Are you looking forward to going home?”
“Yes,” he says immediately, and then, “No. It’s home.
It’s everything I’ve known. I’ve worked so hard to make it into something.
To keep it alive. But… sometimes I feel I’m living in a house of ghosts, and my brothers are waiting for me to turn into one too.
And sometimes I worry they might be right.
” He makes a face. “And your bloody sister has ordered everything decorated in bloody lilac.”
I laugh. “That sounds like Sophie.”
We turn a corner and there, at the end of the road, is my hotel. Angus walks me to the front door and we stand facing each other, a body’s length apart. For a terrifying second, I think he might be about to shake my hand.
There’s something between us. Last night, in the tent. Tonight, at the dance.
“Good—”
“Do you want to come up?”
We stare at each other in shock. I didn’t mean for those words to come out. Once again, I’ve panicked, and now Angus is staring at me as though I’ve vomited on his favourite pair of hiking boots.
“Up?” he repeats.
I clear my throat. “Um. Yeah. You know. To my room.”
Get it together, Rowan. You’re embarrassing yourself, the voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like Marnie says.
“Rowan.” Angus says my name so softly, it sounds like a prayer. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“Yes.”
He takes a step closer, a wicked smile caressing his lips. “No, lass. That’s not good enough.” Angus and I are chest to chest now, and I have to tilt my head back to keep my gaze on his. “You’re going to have to use a few more words than that.”
“Angus, I—”
“Yes?”
He trails a knuckle softly down my cheek, and every part of me pulses in response. The air between us is laced white-hot with tension, as though we have both been struck by lightning.
I wet my lips. This is it. Now. Now is the time to be brave.
“Angus, I want you to fuck me.”
Angus bites back a groan so deep I’m surprised I can’t feel it in the ground. My centre flutters in response. His hand curves around the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
“Good girl.”
Fuck. Arousal sweeps over me in a wave. My knees buckle and I’d stumble if Angus’ other arm wasn’t around my waist, even as his lips meet mine in a kiss that sets my entire body alight.
I’ve been kissed before. Many times. In bedrooms and bathrooms, in bars and on beaches, by men I was in love with and men I’d just met, and it has been hot, and steamy, and sexy and everything in between.
But it has never been anything like this.
When Angus’ lips touch mine, it is as if I’ve come alive for the very first time. As if I’ve been sleeping all my life and I’ve finally woken up. His is the taste I’ve been hungering for without even knowing.
I return his kiss as though I’m drowning, and he is air.
His lips slide over mine, hot and soft and supple, and I moan into them, digging my fingers into his arms. The muscles are hard, and when he pulls me closer, I feel the strength of them.
He draws away and I bite back a whine.
“We should go upstairs.”
He sounds as breathless as I feel.
“Yes.” It’s hard to form words. My thoughts are consumed by the fire burning at my centre, my need to be touched.
We stumble inside the hotel lobby, barely glancing at anyone else as we make our way towards the stairs. Up one floor, and a right, walking as quickly as we can without running. I tug Angus along, his hand in mine, but as we near my door, I slow, nervous, and stop outside.
Angus rests his hands on either side of my hips and looks at me seriously.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Rowan? I can turn around now and leave you alone. No hard feelings.”
For once, he hasn’t called me London.